November 7, 2007. I was at Spanish class, which is basically for me a discussion/conversation and was talking with my teacher. I noted that I am getting to the point where I may need to do something other than try to learn Spanish. Because there is no added value I can bring to the ski business in
November 8, 2007. Anne and I went to Starbucks this morning, hung out. Then off she went to class and I somehow managed to kill the day without doing anything. I read the NY Times on line – it looks like the stock market is in free fall. I also had some annoying news from 
November 9, 2007. I went to Spanish this morning and felt tired since I ended up staying up for some time last night to write a business letter. Then at my class I started to feel even worse and by the time I was home I realized I had some sort of virus, probably what Anne had. That made the rent of my day one watching Spanish TV and eating nothing. Anne went to David’s soccer game where they lost 12 to 0!
November 10, 2007. This morning I slept in to get rid of any remaining vestiges of the virus from yesterday. Anne took the dog on a run and talked with a Bolivian woman, she reported. She’s learning the language very quickly and accurately and said “it’s like a dream come true.” Oh yeah, also the boys … and you too. Went to the local market (Mercat in Catalan) and bought all sorts of stuff, meat, vegetables, etc… and ran into our friend Christina who helped us find an apartment. She introduced us to some of the sellers.
November 12, 2007. I had a meeting with the lawyers again for our apartment. It was about our guarantee and the meeting had to be put off for weeks because of scheduling. The legal deal with apartments here is a complete joke. Of course, the bank made a mistake on the guarantee and it needs to be corrected. The apartment itself is definitely not nice enough for the amount we pay; I guess we feel like every renter. Then Anne and I met at Starbucks. David had a soccer practice and I brought him, then went for a run at night (not fun, got caught on the wrong road with cars and no light).
November 13, 2007. What is the deal with Nespresso? There are shops everywhere; one is a block from our Piso. George Clunny apparently imbibes the stuff because his photo is ubiquitous, sometimes covering entire buildings, showing his smiling all-knowing visage, holding a cup and apparently sitting on a suitcase containing millions of Euros.
Yesterday, while going to the lawyer’s office, I saw a line of people waiting at 10:00 a.m. for the Nespresso store to open. Apparently you buy these one-shot deals that you put into a machine that heats it, turns it to liquid, and produces the drug which then goes into your blood. I’ve heard of other drugs produced and delivered this way.
It seems easy to market to the Spanish since all you do is spend a ton of money on ads with famous American action stars or Penelope Cruz, and start a trend because everyone just loves to be the same – tattoos and piercings, cigarettes, “prescription” glasses, boots, etc.
Our little dog was bitten a week ago in the park when we had a dog-sitter and has now scratched the bites bloody. It’s a mess and we don’t know what to do. It’s on his neck so we wrapped a bandage on it, but he is trying to scratch it off. I think we should get a mean German Sheppard to protect him.